Beautiful Canvas
by violentbliss
Summary: Alfred's life wasn't easy, and his sudden attraction to his art teacher, Ivan, isn't helping. Can Alfred and Ivan be together without society, their fears, and Ivan's past tearing them apart, or are they doomed from the start? OOC, summary fail, re-write


This is a re-write of another fanfiction by the same name by me.

Rated M for: language, violence, character death, angst(?), Alfred x Ivan among others, self-loathing, major OOC, stuff's implied because I don't have the heart to write an actual lemon

Disclaimer: I own nothing- I'm serious. Everything belongs to the respective owners.

XXXXXXX

One weeks was all it took for Alfred to know he wasn't going to enjoy his life in the Bonnefoy household. Already, he longed for the nights in his old apartment when he fell asleep to the constant noise and clatter of the city outside his door, and he missed having the cops knocking on said door every few days, asking about the 'incident' down the street or next door. What the seventeen year old wanted was his old life, and more importantly he wanted back the nights when he wasn't woken up by his father and his boyfriend going at _it_ in the room right next to his.

For the fifth night in the week since the move, Alfred had been forced to wake up just past midnight by the trademark laugh of Arthur's boyfriend, Francis Bonnefoy. The couple's master bedroom had extremely thin walls, much to Alfred's dismay, and even sleeping across from the shared wall did nothing to keep the other two's noises from reaching him. Unfortunately, Alfred could figure out exactly what the two were doing by Arthur's grunts and either Francis' moans or perverted laughs. The first thing the poor teen wanted to do was erase all the scaring images from his mind, but each night they seemed to get more and more realistic.

It wasn't as if he hadn't tried to block out the other two, but none of his plans seemed to fall into place. The first night, he yelled at them to shut up through the wall, but all that earned him was a scolding from a half-naked Arthur and fully nude Francis. The next night he tried earplugs, and they almost worked. Key word: almost. They fell out just in time for him to hear Arthur begging Francis to untie him. Then he played music to overpower the couple, but once more, he received a stern scolding from Arthur because 'no one wanted to hear his shit music'.

Groaning, the sleep deprived blond sat up in his bed and blindly searched for his glasses on the bed's nightstand. For a moment, he stared blankly at the wall across from him until an 'oh, bloody hell,' broke through his hazy mind. With disgust and annoyance, he threw his legs over the bed and stood up, still cocooned in his thin blanket. He tucked his pillow under his arm and made his way to the living room. The pillow was placed at one end of the underused couch before Alfred curled up and finally fell into a faint sleep.

Francis kept his house at a constant seventy-two degrees Fahrenheit, making blankets unnecessary for the most part. The Frenchman also decorated his two story house to have a very 'high class' feel to it, and it made the place feel like it wasn't meant to be lived in- only to be looked at and admired. Honestly, Alfred didn't like the place one bit. He had grown up in houses where he had to curl up under mountains of blankets just to keep himself remotely warm, and over the years the cold had come to have an almost comforting sensation to Alfred. It was hard to explain out loud, but Alfred knew which was all that mattered. When he had told his father about the house not feeling like a home, Arthur answered with, "Get use to it."

Alfred frowned in his sleep as a nightmare took over.

XXXXXX

The next morning was as slow as could be. Alfred woke up a half hour earlier than he planned, and to make things even more annoying, his back was sore as hell from the leather couch. Instead of falling back asleep, he took an extra long shower where he stood in the stream, not thinking or moving. He simply took comfort in the warm water hitting his lightly tanned skin. After about forty-five minutes, he climbed out of the perfectly white shower and dried himself off before dressing for the day. He pulled on a simple Green Lantern t-shirt and black jeans because he saw no need to dress up for the occasion. It was just the first day of a new school year- no big deal.

A soft knock on the other side of the door caught his attention. "Alfred, could you maybe hurry up in there?" a meek voice belonging the Francis' son, Matthew, asked.

Alfred let out an inaudible sigh before laughing his trademark 'hero' laugh. "Of course, Mattie. The ever heroic me will be out in a minute." he laughed while trying to fix his hair. The wheat colored locks usually behaved save the single strand upfront that stuck up in a rebel manner. He had given up fighting the rebel years ago, and with another sigh, he swung open the door, narrowly missing Matthew on the other side.

Matthew was sixteen years old at the time, and he could have very well been Alfred's twin. His hair was only a shade darker and a bit wavier than Alfred's, and even his eyes were nearly the same color as the others. His were simply a bit more purple than Alfred's bright sky blue. Alfred was a few inches taller and a few pounds chubbier. "Thanks, Alfred." he sighed, looking at Alfred and feeling tired already. Matthew slipped past Alfred without giving the other time to speak. Of course the soft spoken boy didn't catch on that Alfred wasn't having a good morning, but it wasn't surprising. No one ever did.

Next, he went to the kitchen and made himself toast after making sure his backpack was put together correctly. Matthew joined him shortly after, and he, too, was ready for the first day of school. There was a maple leaf backpack swung over his shoulder, and he adjusted his glasses with a crack of his neck. "Gilbert's picking me up to drive me to school, so I can't walk with you to school." he announced, not meeting Alfred's gaze. "All you have to do is follow the sidewalk to get to the school."

"But Mattie," Alfred whined, "it's my first day! I don't want to go all alone. I'll probably get lost, too." It was a lie. He had already made several routes to the school and picked the shortest one as his daily path. "Come on, Mattie. You can't just abandon me." he pouted.

Matthew frowned and shook his head. "I promised Gil I'd go with him. He'll be mad if I break my promise, and then I'll never hear the end of it." he said, shortly.

"But-" Alfred began only to be cut off by the honking of a car.

"That's Gilbert, so I have to go." Matthew said, quickly. He rushed out of the house before Alfred could say anything. It was probably for the best the younger didn't see Alfred's glare. No one was aloud to see under Alfred's mask. No one could know the happy-go-lucky idiot they knew and hated wasn't the real Alfred.

XXXXXX

Alfred sat in his first hour listening to those around him talking about their summer breaks. Some voices stood out among other, but none took much notice of him, sitting in the front of the Physics class. Once he heard someone wonder why Matthew Bonnefoy was in the class until another told the first it wasn't Matthew but someone else. His second hour French class and third hour English passed by in one large blur. It wasn't until lunch that he bothered finding people to socialize with.

He found Matthew at the front of the small lunchroom at a table with a handful of other people. He recognized Gilbert right away. The albino had visited twice in the week he lived with Matthew, and the annoying bastard was hard to forget. It was Gilbert who first noticed him approach. "Hey, look Mattie. It's your stupid twin!" he laughed. Matthew smiled in response while Alfred cringed just the slightest. The albino had a very obnoxious laugh, in his opinion.

Alfred simply forced his usual smile and plopped down in a seat with an energetic 'hey, Mattie'. He took note of the small shy looking Asian he sat next to. The young looking teen had ink black hair and soft brown eyes. Next to him was brunette with amber eyes and another with green eyes- this one was much more laid back than the other.

"Hello, Alfred." Matthew greeted, his energy being drained away the moment the other sat down. "How's your day going?" he asked, only to be polite.

Inside, Alfred groaned, but none the less, he began talking about all the things he heard in his previous hours. He made it sound like he was having the most exciting day ever. As he went on-and-on the others all groaned; well, everyone but the young teen next to him who listened with polite interest.

"Hey, Alfie." Gilbert snapped, annoyed. "Shut up you moron. No one cares."

Alfred paused. What would his mask say at this moment, he wondered. "Why don't you shove it? I'm in the middle of a freaking amazing story." he huffed, faking annoyance. Gilbert was going to say something more, but Alfred quickly turned to the teen next to him. "Hey, I'm Alfred- the hero." he introduced.

"I am Kiku." the teen answered with a small smile. His voice was very soft, much like Matthew's. "Alfred-san, might I see your class list?" he asked.

"Sure, dude. Just don't rip it 'cause without it I'm screwed." Alfred lied with a laugh. It would take an idiot to get lost in a school as small as his. He had his classes memorized anyways.

Kiku handed the piece of paper back after a moment. "We have Physics and Algebra two together." he said, offering a smile. When it was returned, he continued. "I couldn't help but notice you signed up for art class. Did you take it at your previous school?" he wondered.

"Nah, art isn't my thing, but this school didn't offer my old elective. I had to pick a different class, and Mattie over here told me art was to kill for." Alfred shrugged. He didn't miss Matthew's eyes go wide and Kiku's narrow. "What's up with art?" he asked, faking ignorance of Matthew's guilty look.

Kiku coughed. "The teacher is...well he is..."

"Mr. Braginski is an insane drunk." the amber eyed teen snapped.

"Lovino," the laid back teen next to him sighed, "there's no proof he actually drinks while teaching. It's just a rumor."

"Like hell it's just a rumor, Antonio, you stupid bastard. He's always drinking from a clear bottle, and it sure as hell isn't water in there. He slurs his words, too, and let's not forget he's overly violent!" he growled. He turned his eyes to Alfred. "Everyone at this table transferred out of that class because that _teacher_ freaked the shit out of us. I'd suggest you get out of there while you can, or suffer for a year at the hands of Mr. Braginski." he warned, crossing his arms.

"Lovino," Kiku said, quietly, "he does not slur his words. That is his accent."

"What? Suddenly you like him, Kiku? I thought you were afraid he was going to hurt you every time you passed him." Antonio laughed.

Kiku blushed just the slightest out of anger. "No, I still hate the man, but I don't think it is fair to judge someone on their accent."

"Oh, whatever!" Gilbert yelled. "This conversation is so not awesome. The guy's a fucking freak of nature, and that's the end of it."

Alfred took a mental note that fear was stronger than hate in Gilbert's voice when he spoke of Mr. Braginski. It took him a moment to realize the others were waiting for a reaction from him. "Come on, guys. I bet he's just some pushover with a loud bark and no bite. A hero like me has nothing to worry about." He frowned, realizing just how fake he sounded, but when the others (meaning Kiku and Lovino) tried to warn him again, he knew they didn't hear anything off about him. Knowing he was safe, he continued to laugh the others off like the idiot he pretended to be.

XXXXXX

He didn't worry about his last hour art class until he was standing outside of the classroom's door. There were a handful of about ten students standing outside the plain looking door, and everyone was daring the other to open the door. They were all jumpy and nervous, and while none wanted to be late for class, no one dared to be the one to open the door.

Alfred, himself, was two seconds from opening the door when it suddenly opened, revealing a man. From the way the other students feared and talked about the teacher, Alfred was expecting someone who looked disturbed. He was expecting long greasy black hair, a thin boney nose, messy clothes, and soulless eyes (aka, a Charles Manson type of man). However, the man standing in the classroom's door was nothing short of handsome.

The man was tall with wide shoulders, and his white dress shirt told he wasn't fat but toned and strong. His eyes were a vibrate amethyst that seemed to glow. His nose was slightly larger than the next person's, but it only added to his charm. The man's hair was a light shade of blond and cut into a professional yet boyish style. The final feature of the man Alfred noticed were his thin lips that were pulled into a childish smile. He knew that smile right away, and he wondered, what type of mask was this man wearing?

"You should all be inside the classroom not outside the door, da?" he asked with a light giggle. The words sounded accusing. When he stepped aside, everyone filed into the classroom like children afraid of punishment.

The art room looked like any other arm room. There was a desk up front where the teacher sat with a door near it that surely led to a supply closet of sorts. Three large table were in the center of the room, and along the back wall and the wall across from the windows were counters that doubled as seat. The windows themselves were blacked out with thick cloth; the lights of the room were dimmed for one reason or another. At the front of the room was a Russian flag, and right next to it was a...Soviet Union flag.

"What the fuck?" Alfred wondered, staring at the commie flag.

"Dobroe utro, class." he greeted(?). None seemed to understand the jumble of words coming from the man's mouth. "Sit where ever you please."

As the class scrambled to sit in the stools throughout the room, Alfred watched the teacher pull a glass bottle from under his desk and take a long drink from it. He was too busy watching the teacher to notice the shy teen sitting next to him, and that was why he was shocked when he heard, "It's what you think it is." Alfred looked to see a nervous looking brunette with green eyes watching him. "I'm Toris." he introduced.

"Alfred." he nodded.

"I am Mr. Braginski." the teacher said, capturing the class's attention. "Today, we shall see how naturally talented you are, da? You will find white pieces of paper in front of you. Simply draw whatever you feel you can draw the best." His voice was too childish and bubbly. It only made the students but Alfred feel uncomfortable.

Alfred had no talent at art; he knew this, and soon, so would Mr. Braginski. It was for that reason he began to draw a stick figure with a cape behind him for his assignment. He was completely focused on adding small doodles to his 'masterpiece', so he didn't hear his large Russian teacher as he went to stand behind him. He still didn't notice the man until he felt a cold hand on his shoulder and the slight pressure on his back of Mr. Braginski leaning over him.

"You would like to tell me why you did not take another elective, da?" Mr. Braginski asked, er demanded.

For a moment, Alfred's mind went blank. "Uh," he responded, stupidly. "I'm even worse at choir and band, but you still need a year of an art class to graduate."

"Da, this I know, but you do realize you must first pass my class to get the credit for it?" He stepped away from Alfred, and the other turned to face his teacher. Even though he was just sitting down, Mr. Braginski looked much taller than him, and he quickly learned the teacher easily intimidated those around him. "To pass my class, you must have at least an ounce of natural talent. You have none." he giggled.

Alfred's eyes narrowed at the insult. He knew had no artistic talent, but his ass of a teacher just had to go announce it to the class, didn't he? "You're a teacher, aren't you?" he growled. "It's your job to teach me how to draw despite any previous talent, and if I do fail, it just shows you're a crappy teacher. If you fail me, you'll be fired for not doing your job, and then you'll have to live on the streets." He heard the students around him gasp- Toris looked ready to piss himself, but Mr. Braginski showed no signs of anger. He was still smiling that creepy ass smile.

"Then I must work hard to make you pass, da? Sixty minutes a day will not be enough, this I am sure of." Mr. Braginski sighed. Alfred smiled, thinking he had won. "You will just have to come in after school for extra lessons!" his teacher said, giggling once more.

It took a few seconds for Alfred to realize what the Russian had said. "What?" he demanded. "I was just joking about the whole getting fired part! I don't want extra lessons- not from you at least." A few students snickered at this, but a glare from Mr. Braginski silenced them in moments. His whole aura screamed 'death'.

"Now you," Mr. Braginski said, turning back to Alfred, " you will stay here after school every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday unless I say otherwise, da? I am also here early before school starts if you are that desperate to pass." He then turned and went to his desk without another word or glance back.

Alfred simply watched, confused and slightly interested. Perhaps, he would be able to figure out the man underneath the mask. If he could do it for another, maybe there was hope the same to happen to him.

A/N:

Hello, I'm back- kinda- with a new version of this story (though I doubt any read the original). I've made improvements from the first one, and I'd like you to tell me what you think. :)


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